Has My Grief All Gone?

Today was a good day. I talked to my kids, and they are all fairly healthy and happy. Nothing in the house or car went boing or glub, glub, so that’s great. I worked all day on school projects, preparing ideas to teach my elementary kids how to find the main idea in a paragraph. Then we’ll work on discovering the same thing in a whole story. In teacher language that’s called higher level thinking skills, and it’s not easy, even for adults. So I really had to engage my mushy, grieving brain to come up with new, exciting ideas.

Tonight I feel like I accomplished something. No, I’m not happy, but I am content this evening and plan to watch some good TV until bedtime. Think I’ll have some chips and salsa for dinner again. Maybe my grief has finally gone. Thank you, God.

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Today was horrible. I woke up in tears from a dream I had in which Robert had come back to me, then decided to leave me again for a better place. I awoke sobbing that he could think anyplace was better without me there.

When I tried to fix my breakfast, I was out of milk and the bread had molded, so I settled for crunchy peanut butter on crackers. Then when I started to leave for school, I had to scrape frost off my windshield in a cold wind. Seemed like the day couldn’t get any worse.

I was wrong. I welcomed two new students, twins whom the mother didn’t want separated, and it soon became obvious their ability levels were miles apart. A fact which I later discovered the mother refused to recognize. The day just got longer.

Driving home I felt tired and discouraged. It was time to pay bills for this month and I didn’t know if my check would stretch far enough. The house was cold, and I was out of dog food for sweet Sheila. Tears pricked my eyes and made rivulets down my cheeks. Dear God, I know I will grieve forever.

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Now that I’m at the end of the grief journey, I look back with sympathy at my old self. I realize that grief is like a weathervane. Some days it swings into the north wind and I feel covered in frost. The next day the sun may be warming my face and I look to the bright sunrise anticipating a new day of satisfactory things to do. Grief is like that. Sometimes on that long journey we trudge along, and some days we surprise ourselves by skipping. I seem to need frequent reminders that God is in charge all along.